


Memories Of Dust

by Makowo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, How the Fuck Do I Tag, I've completely given up on writing summaries if you can't tell, M/M, The lads are androids!, as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 01:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20827094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makowo/pseuds/Makowo
Summary: i haven't even played nier automata in forever idk why im only just now making this





	Memories Of Dust

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't even played nier automata in forever idk why im only just now making this

“You know, I find it kinda funny that we look similar, even though we have really different purposes.”

4O’s legs dangle off the side of the cliff, the pair just upon the edge of a vast ravine. The shorter android apparently cares little for the danger, as does the android beside him. Perhaps humans would feel some sort of fear of such extreme heights, that a single movement or slip-up could send them plummeting to their death. But as beings lacking any sort of true life to themselves, their consciences ones that could so easily be placed within another model of themselves, if one stays on the YorHa’s side. Not that they’d fall off, considering, at their cores, they’re made for battle, and thus wouldn’t fall unless completely intentional.

Yet, 3E cannot help but spot an ounce of fear within the android’s demeanor, careful consideration for each and every little movement as his hands subtly tremble, as if he were truly scared of falling. Perhaps that’s just the nature of O-type androids. To covet their forms and lives, as they know all resources to be limited. But he knows better. He knows it’s not just that, but part of 4O’s natural personality as well.

Why they were built to have personalities is a mystery that eludes him still, even after so much time spent serving their creators. A confusing mystery, but one that he shall not care for.

“I do not know how one could find humor in such a thing, 4O. Especially since we look very little alike.” 3E pauses, then continues. “Besides, would it not be more consequential than humorous that we look similar?”

4O laughs once more, a child-like sound so extraordinarily unbefitting of a humanoid robot created for the sole purpose of battling against alien machines ruling the earth. “Yeah, maybe!” He replies with far too much happiness. “But I don’t think it really matters, right? We’re both rogue. They’re gonna try to kill us on sight anyways.” He twirls the weapon in his hand, if one could call what’s simply a smooth, fancy stick found in the forest a weapon. Apparently the android sitting beside him certainly thought so, as well as the YorHa weapon database apparently.

The shorter “boy” loudly huffs in annoyance, 3E blinking from his thoughts as the end of the stick makes contact with the top of his head. “Ow.” The barely, if at all, damaged android deadpans after a moment’s delay.

“Izuru!” He barks, dropping the weapon behind him to float beside the comically large weapon called the “Phoenix Sword” by a robot the found within a large tower, the ruins of what he theorizes to have once been headquarters for some large organization now long forgotten. “You promised you’d use the names I picked out for us!” The O-type android whines.

“Izuru” rolls his eyes, though it’s unseen underneath the blindfold fastened tight around his light blue eyes. “I never promised such a thing. You wish for me to use the old human names you dug up when looking through humanity’s history books, which I told you not to look through because of the danger within the library.” As 3E speaks 4O seems to shrink away somewhat, losing the boldness he once had. “Which will only act as catalysts for further emotional attachment, which is unfavorable given our situation.”

3E stays silent as 4O forms a response, hidden gaze flitting to the gaping ravine far below the pair. “W-well… I thought they were cute…” He chuckles nervously as he gives the honestly very idiotic excuse for risking his now singular life to read some ancient books in an ancient library. “I-I’ll stop doing it though if you use the names!” He’s quick to add before 3E can take the start of silence to speak.

The E-type android scoffs, the sound barely audible yet upsetting to his companion nonetheless. “You won’t.” He states as fact, and 4O knows it’s true. He’ll just continue to travel back to the library to read when he gets bored of fighting machines for parts. That’s just how he is, striving to learn of old, insignificant things humans had written of and told stories about because he “feels the need to be someone that remembers all of this cool stuff” that no one else alive really cares about. 3E couldn’t care any less for knowledge of things long gone, rather concerned with ensuring the safety of them both. Not that he’d admit such.

The taller of the pair stands, the tips of his pitch black hair just barely brushing against the hard ground he stands upon. The spiky-haired one does soon after, mostly out of habit for following the silkier-haired male. 4O isn’t exactly the best at combat, after all. Though he feels a sort of unconventional regret for letting the other do so much fighting. “Now come.” The E-type turns around, looking at the nearby cave before looking back to the way they came. A narrow path, hidden by the wildly grown trees, which he immediately walks towards, Ancient Overlord and Demon’s Cry floating just inches away from his back.

4O, on the other hand, decides to linger. He stays balanced upon the precipice of the ridge, a slight wind tickling the recently cut ends of his short, sharp hair. He takes a soft breath, memories trickling into his thoughts of what feels to be months ago, when he’s sure it was nothing more than a few weeks.

  
  
  


_ “4O!” Someone calls his name, the boy turning in an instant to face the android. Despite the constant noise of the amusement park, the clank of machine steps and music blasting fuzzily through partially broken speakers littering the worn buildings doing nothing to affect how well he can hear his partner. “4O, hey!” _

_ The android is met with a taller android of strangely similar design running towards him from a random alley, skidding to a stop just in front of him. 4O remains unfazed, his expression betraying only a slight ounce of curiosity. He lacks much expressiveness at all, considering the state of the fight for humanity. YorHa has become so desperate, they’re sending out O-type androids to fight without spending time to reprogram them. They say it’s only a “temporary altercation”, but Makoto and others were made to know better. “Yes, 28D?” He asks with a voice lacking inflection. “What is it?” He holds back outwardly expressing a wince at the flatness of his tone, making it sound as if he were speaking to a child, but makes no attempt at correcting it. _

_ The D-type answers first with a barely audible chuckle, radiating familiar nervousness and insecurity. 4O doesn’t miss him hiding something just behind his back, Angel’s Folly and Iron Will doing well to hide it. “Well, I went looking around, just to see if there was anything useful you’d want like materials and stuff.” He glances to a machine as it throws confettie into the air, both androids showered in a vibrant display of color. The corners of 28D’s lips turn up slightly, while 4O’s stay a firm line, both then ignoring the strange marching machines around them once more. “And, I came across this.” _

_ He reveals the item he holds, it being a small, worn book, charred and clearly stomped upon by machines. This earns a look of confusion and nearly exasperation, but 28D is quick to explain. Or, more precisely, coming up with the excuse he prepared as he ran back. “I know it seems dumb to grab, but I think the machines or some shop likes to buy these, right? I found a couple, but this one is the only one I found intact enough to read, so…” He trails off, a moment of silence forming between them in the music-filled air.  _

_ “You have a different motive, don’t you?” 4O asks sweetly, flicking a wrist to summon Ancient Overlord from back to hand and pierce the machine doing circles beside them. The confetti stops just short of landing on them again, sparks flying as he tosses the little enemy away. “You can tell me! I don’t mind.” He dismisses the sword once more, just barely missing Pod 328 floating beside him, the tiny violet-colored assistant with leather arms remaining unfazed. _

_ 28D flinches at the sudden action, Pod 454 letting out a sound akin to abarely hidden laugh of deprication. “I… kind of have a different reason for this, yeah.” He gives his deep green pod and white-topped base a short pet before continuing. “I wanted to see if you’d be interested in having human nicknames. Just… for fun, I guess.” _

_ 4O hadn’t been expecting that, raising an eyebrow to reveal only confusion. The offer… isn’t exactly harmful, however. 4O shrugs. “That sounds fine! Do you already have some ideas?” He cocks his head to the side, eyeing the worn book in the D-type’s grasp. _

_ 28D’s gaze lights up immediately, not having expected the somewhat aloof O-type to accept the proposal. “Yeah, actually!” Perfect, pale hands peel open the dirty book, flipping through aged pages before landing upon one. “Makoto, Hajime, and Izuru are some I found! I’m not sure which one you want, but I kinda thought I could be Hajime.” _

_ 4O understands why, and it’s not solely due to random chance as to choosing Hajime for himself. If he recalls correctly, Hajime in japanese means “begin”, or something like that. He only recalls it from his pod deciding to ramble about the topic of japanese language as they hung around the library and looked at books written in or about their way of speech, but perhaps 28D finds it holds some sense of ioimportance that he and every other D-type craves every day of their near useless existences, so he’ll let him have that name. _

_ “Then… I’ll be Makoto!” The shorter android replies excitedly, the android newly dubbed Hajime smiling back. _

_ He glances back down to the book, shutting it quickly. “Then it’s settled.” His smile softens, taking the step forward to close the distance between them. Lips upon lips, a shared breath as useless tongues stay back in apprehension, one bold enough to initiate and keep a kiss but neither bold enough to add tongues into the mix. Seconds pass and they pull away, blindfolded gaze meeting the other’s. “I love you, Makoto.” _

_ A squeeze of hands from the shorter one, warmth spreading along pale skin. “I lo _

  
  


“-ve to know why you’re just standing here.” Makoto blinks, taking a sharp, shaky breath for multiple reasons as he turns. There stands 3E, artificial blue just barely shining underneath the pitch black bandana. He betrays no emotion except apparent exasperation at 4O’s lack of reaction or movement, simply staring expectantly. From how he’s standing 4O can guess he’s been there for a while, eliciting a blush of embarrassment.

“S-sorry, Haj- Izuru!” He stutters, stepping away from the cliff edge just as the ground crumbles. Makoto blinks in surprise, while Izuru remains unfazed. A nervous chuckle spills from the shaken android, rubbing the back of his neck as he realizes he’s just had(another) brush with death. “A-ah, that was close… pretty unlucky, ahah.”

“And stupidly lucky that you managed to return to your senses in time.” 3E responds flatly, before turning around with his green pod floating nervously behind him. “Let’s go, we have things to do, and you’ve wasted enough time already.” And lacking any urge to inform him of their next activity, mission, or whatever he shall deem to call this next skirmish with unending machines, 3E takes his leave once more through the path between thick, aged trees.

Makoto does not dare linger another time, instead deciding to simply followhis fellow android. But not before glancing back, gaze lingering on the gaping crack in the earth’s crust. “... I’ll get you back, Hajime. I promise.” He mutters, turning around and walking away from the cliff to whatever their apparently dreary future may bring to the lone androids.

**Author's Note:**

> Just gonna list the gang(maybe so far? 😳) here, just in case  
4O: Makoto  
3E: Izuru  
28D: Hajime  
Pod 328: Kyoko  
Pod 454: Nagito


End file.
